


Lefou's Monster

by SegantEnfield



Series: For Life [2]
Category: Beauty and the Beast (2017)
Genre: Angry lefou, Bisexual Gaston (Disney), Cursed Gaston (Disney), Genderfluid Character, I'm probably not finishing this yall, M/M, Other, Sad LeFou
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2017-11-19
Packaged: 2019-01-18 00:36:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12377343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SegantEnfield/pseuds/SegantEnfield
Summary: Gaston's only possession is a mirror he can't stand to look at.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Now for something completely different from LeFou's dangerous pastime

Gaston distinctly remembered dying. He could still feel the phantom touch of freezing air whipping past him as he fell. That tower… it was far too high for any man to survive the plummet. Even a perfect man like Gaston. If that beast had fallen instead, the world would be free of a threat. Instead, since Gaston died, the world was short a hero. 

At least, he was sure he had died. It was confusing. Before his relationship with LeFou really began, he never believed in god. Lefou proved the existence of angels. What dis that mean for the afterlife? Was heaven be waiting Gaston? 

The snowy plot of forest must be whatever was between earth and heaven. It must take a lot of work to prepare paradise for someone perfect. Or he was dreaming on the way to his destination. Either way, he saw no reason to just sit there on the ground. 

Standing up sent him reeling. His vision blurred and the world span, but worst of all, his whole body was in pain. Sharp and horrible, like a broken bone, but everywhere, and it put a stop to all thought in his mind. He nearly screamed at the pain, his eyes squeezed shut in effort to stay composed. 

He propped himself against a tree with a groan and forced himself to open his eyes. The trees seemed shorter than the forest he was used to. The snow nearly blinded him, but it was not nearly as harsh as the sun reflecting on the mirror that lied discarded on the powder. 

A mirror? -The- mirror. Hand held. Ornate. The one he used to rally the mob. The glass was still in tact, which couldn't have been possible, but no dreams are logical. 

The marks in the snow next to the mirror were far more curious than the mirror itself. Clear footprints. Well, hoof prints. Monstrously sized cloven hooves, along with a huge patch of disturbed snow where the owner of said hooves must have been laid out. 

There was a troubling realization for Gaston. He counted the hoof prints. The exact amount of steps he had taken from his spot on the ground. He dared to allow himself to look down, where his feet should be. Instead of his beautiful body, he found a beast. It was unlike the one he had fought on the towers. Goat legs wore britches that belonged to Gaston, and his blouse adorned a lion's chest. A reptilian tail flicked behind him and he closed his eyes.

Just a strange nightmare. Was the fight at the castle part of the nightmare as well? He thought back to his last conversation with the only other person that mattered. His love had reached out to him for help from beneath an enchanted harpsichord and Gaston left him.

It had to have been a nightmare, it was too horrible to be real.

“ it's not a dream” called a calm voice from across the clearing and Gaston looked up to see Agathe, glowing and ethereal.

“ what happened?” Gaston was shocked to hear his voice come out as a bestial growl.

“justice. Of all the men I've cursed, I think you're the most worthy of punishment”

“ you fucking cursed me?” there was horror in his voice and his attention drew to the mirror on the ground. He brought it up in his clawed hands to see his own reflection. When he was met with the image of huge fangs and a rack of bone-like antlers, he dropped the item in shock.

“ do be careful with that. It's all I've chosen to give you, other that your life. Though, it will only show you two things. Yourself and the man who holds your fate in his hands”

“ my fate? This man can break the curse?”

“ the moment he forgives you, you'll be human again. And still alive. It wouldn't be a second chance if you just went back to being dead” the enchantress vanished in a gaudy cloud of golden dust. 

Gaston found himself falling to his knees and searching the snow with hands that no longer felt like his own. He found the mirror and commanded it to show him the man who held his fate.

«««»»»

Lefou sat on the same hill he and Gaston rode on the day Gaston made that decision. The day the worst time of his life started. Somehow watching the man he adored commit acts of cruelty was harder than war. Worse than withstanding any amount of abuse from his late father. 

Stanley must have noticed the tears welling in LeFou’s eyes, because they sat beside him in the grass and wrapped their long arms around him. “take as long as you need”, they whispered to him.

Lefou sniffled and nodded “I feel terrible for how angry I am”

“don't, you have a right to those feelings. He wronged a lot of people, none as much as you, and they're all angry. He hurt you the most.”

“it's not what he did to me” LeFou tried, before immediately realizing that was inaccurate “ not- not just that, at least. He tried to kill innocent people. He treated Belle like a deer to hunt and display on the wall and-... Stanley, I couldn't stop him. I don't think I tried hard enough-”

“ no, that's not it. You were fearless. You tried to tame a monster and you nearly did. Don't blame yourself. You're amazing” Stanley pressed a gentle kiss to LeFou’s lips.

«««»»» 

Gaston threw the mirror at a tree with all his might. The bark and wood splintered but the mirror remained pristine. He let out a roar of rage over this horrible situation. Ugly and alone, forced to watch a lesser man kiss LeFou.

Everything he had done was -for- LeFou. He should be thanked, not cursed. He should be in his tavern with LeFou and Belle cooking for him. Belle could have gotten along with LeFou famously, if only she hadn't gotten herself kidnapped by a monster only to climb into bed with it. 

Disgusting. And now Gaston was disgusting as well, all because he tried to be the hero and keep LeFou. The injustice of it all made him too angry for words, so he roared for minutes or maybe hours.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gaston needs that mirror more than air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all. I actually proofread this one

Revisiting the subject of the mirror, two nights later with a clear mind, Gason began formulate a list of questions. These questions, of course, came from hours of painful observation. For instance, LeFou had a mustache (which Gaston wasn’t sure he liked, maybe he would shave it for him after this mess ended). Gaston was an expert on LeFou. He even spent more time planning his appearance than Gaston! It must have taken him at least two months to figure out his favorite way to trim his new facial hair, which brings us to the question.

How long was gaston gone? How long ago was that frozen night in june?

Long enough for LeFou to gain a new tailored suit- which was clearly made for an event that had already passed, since LeFou only put it on to smile at how nicely it fit. 

It had also been long enough for LeFou to be kissing someone new. The man thought the love of his life was dead, Gaston was sure he grieved for a long time. The snow that surrounded Gaston did nothing to clue him in regarding the passage of time. The mirror showed LeFou living in the sun. Occasionally, Gaston saw LeFou pass golden trees which could only mean Autumn. LeFou had no sign of noticeable aging. More importantly, neither did Stanley, who Gaston was convinced wasn’t even full-grown. From everything he saw, Gaston would guess it had been fifteen months. It seemed strange however, for the witch to leave him dead for so long. Perhaps she hadn’t planned on cursing Gaston in the first place.

Gaston had many questions about the witch. The most prominent in his mind was “what the fuck did she gain from these spells”. It seemed likely that she fed off the misery of men. Maybe she just thought it was funny to fuck with this particular countryside. As puzzling as her motivation was, Gaston found it didn’t matter. Villains were Villains, no matter their reasons. Perhaps the witch had the right idea at first, when she cursed that brat of a prince, but clearly she had no good intent, as she ruined countless lives for the sake of that initial spell.

That first spell hurt his mind to contemplate. He couldn’t figure out what exactly the lasting effects where, but they couldn’t have been good for anyone. The stolen memories where one thing, but Gaston was positive that time affected them differently within those ten years. They certainly aged, but at an alarmingly slow rate. He hadn’t realized during the curse, but it was clear now that he had time to think about it.

All he had was time to think. 

How did Stanley get a man like LeFou? Did the little twerp even realize how lucky he was? There was one question that kept gaston awake. How much of himself had LeFou given Staley? Kisses where hard to watch, but it was comforting to notice how rare they were. The couple in the mirror kissed an average of three times a day, and Stanley always blushed like a child. Clearly, he was nervous. As he should have been, with a man so obviously above him. A kid that skittish had clearly never been to bed with LeFou.

It took two weeks of observation for gaston to notice something. Every night at eleven, LeFou pulled that red bow from beneath his bed and cried alone. Gaston had never seen LeFou cry so hard and it made him reconsider his estimation regarding his lost time. When LeFou’s father died, he did cry, but only once, due to stress when he was asked to organize the old monster’s funeral. Gaston had to tell Pere Robert of the horrors LeFou had been subjected to in order for the man to understand why LeFou couldn’t do it. Years before that, Lefou had cried as long as two months after his mother’s funeral. No matter how much LeFou loved gaston, he wouldn’t have been crying more than a year later. LeFou was still afraid to be caught crying by anyone other than Gaston. This still included Stanley, which gave Gaston a sense of victory. 

Still, if it really was just three months after the attack on the castle, why had LeFou found a man so quickly after? Stanley didn’t strike Gaston as cunning enough to use LeFou’s grief to his advantage. Maybe LeFou just needed -somebody-.

Gaston couldn’t wait to see the joy and relief on his love’s face when he finds out he’s alive. He’d be perhaps a bit put off by that new form of his, but all it took was forgiveness.

He actually didn’t think forgiveness was the right was to say it. There was nothing to forgive and the words of some stupid witch wouldn’t change that. LeFou just needed to realize that his anger was misdirected. He knew LeFou could do it. He was great at that soul searching shit where he looked at his mistakes and corrected them. It wouldn’t take long for the pretty little tavern owner to realize that Gaston did everything for him. The moment he sees how much Gaston has suffered from this curse, he’d run to him and hold him until the ache in his bones was a bitter memory.

That ache. Gaston was surprised to find it faded over time. The day he woke up a monster, he could barely move. Three weeks later, he was hunting. More accurately, he was learning how to hunt all over again. He couldn’t sneak up on prey very well with his bulk. He found he could sit silently, mostly hidden by bushes, and deer would see his new antlers and just assume he was their kind. If he was patient enough to wait for the creatures to venture close enough to him, he could easily pounce and he’d have food for a few days. He had caught three this way. 

Fire was difficult to start. He had nothing but nature to work with and his claws were clumsy. LeFou had always been great at starting fire, even in the snow. And he had always been better at cooking than Gaston. Venison was much less enjoyable with no seasoning. 

Gaston’s life had been terrible for three weeks, but there was one thing he could still find solace in.

He left the mirror activated constantly, even if he wasn’t actively looking at it, he was listening. LeFou still sang. He sang at the tavern, he sang alone to himself, he sang to Stanley. He sang to the red bow. In public, the songs were always jovial. In private, his angelic voice took on a sorrowful tone. The most interesting and the most beautiful was when he sat with that little length of sattin. Gaston’s first romantic gift to him. In those moments, LeFou let himself sing songs he had written with gaston or for Gaston. These songs were happy in their original meaning. Private love songs. LeFou made them sound tragic.

Still, his voice was the only thing that kept Gaston -there-. In silent times, he could feel a wild part of him telling him to run through the forest. Howl at the moon. Forget humans. Forget LeFou.

He couldn’t let himself forget LeFou, so he kept that mirror close, seeing it as his only tether to his humanity.

LeFou was his tether. LeFou kept him human and he didn’t even know he was alive.

Gaston would never tell anyone how often he cried over this.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gaston explores the perimeter and LeFou speaks with a friend

“You're gorgeous” LeFou told Stanley in awe, his hands reaching up to feel a bow on her dress. On days like that, it wasn't lost on him that he was genuinely attracted to a woman. But on other days, Stanley wasn't a woman. It didn't matter either way. When he was younger, he'd have been confused. But now he was a twenty seven year old war vet (and kind of a widower too) who knew better than to expect sexuality to be simple. Loving Stanley, though, was simple. So was supporting her in every decision she made. 

Stanley grinned back at her love in a way that made his heart flutter. She smoothed her hands over her skirts “I have Maman to thank”

“your father too. They worked together on that pretty face of yours” 

She blushed and giggled “I was referring to the dress”

“it's a lovely dress, Madame is rightfully proud” LeFou nodded thoughtfully to himself, before smirking “but you don't need clothes to be gorgeous”

«««»»»

Gaston growled at the mirror, returning it to its place tucked in his belt. As irritating as it was to witness LeFou looking at anyone but him like that, he needed to keep listening. That soft voice was all that kept him on two legs instead of four as he patrolled. 

It was long since time to see how far he could go. It wouldn't surprise him if he was magically confined to the snow, but if that were the case, he wanted to know the size of his cage. 

When he found the edge of winter, approximately half a mile from where he spoke to that bitch of an enchantress, he didn't even try to step over the threshold. As much as he hated it, he had a sliver of hope that maybe he could leave. He wasn't ready to find out. It felt easier to focus on something he was sure he could do. 

There was a tree next to where he stood. It stood a whole five feet taller than him, and he briefly mused that it would be monolithic to LeFou (who must be half Gaston's monstrous height). He shook his head to dislodge the thought. It wasn't important. What was important was how the hulking plant seemed to straddle the line- only half of it bearing any sign of the cold. It was perfect. 

Just to be sure he'd recognize it later, he raked his claws down the bark. That was a feeling he'd gladly never experience again given the chance. The rough texture sent a shudder through Gaston and he grimaced, muttering to himself.

That was something of a habit he had developed since growing hooves and fangs. More pitiful were the times he'd respond to LeFou’s voice from the mirror, as if he was speaking to him instead of the person Gaston felt he would never understand. 

When he was satisfied with the mark on the tree, he turned right and walked along the edge of the frost.

“let's see how long it takes to see that tree again”, Gaston told the mirror before wincing at the sound of LeFou kissing and complementing Stanley. 

“and I guess the names still Stanley, too. As if that shit makes sense. You'd think if Stan puts all that effort into having people call em he, they at the right times, she'd pick some names for when she doesn't feel like a man” Gaston grumbled “does she think LeFou wouldn't bend over backwards to call her whatever she asks?” he growled again “what am I wasting time talking about it for? I heard LeFou explain it twenty fucking times, she just likes her name. I've got nothing to talk about. Don't really wanna listen to him praise her though. Can't let it be quiet- not again. This is bullshit. The -Prince- got to serve his time in a castle with servants and I'm alone with a second hand mirror” his words faded into muttered yet colorful insults for Agathe. Basically, fuck Agathe. 

Gaston glanced behind him. He couldn't see that tree anymore, but it was starting to become clear that the space was a perfect circle. If where he was brought back to life was the center, he'd be walking for a while to get all the way around. 

That was fine by him. It was better than idly withering away to nothing. He'd make the walk every day if he can't get out. Something to keep him active. 

A particularly breathy sentence from LeFou reminded Gaston of a different way he tried to keep himself busy. It was short lived. As wonderful as LeFou sounded when he pleasured himself in the dead of night, Gaston could bring himself to do it, his body was too revolting. It was just one more reason he couldn't wait to be human again.

Being disgusted by myself was new. He hated it. Maybe if he hung jewelry from his antlers, he could seem more like a fashionable, confident monster. It was hard to find jewelry in the forest, so instead he just looked like a hideous monster. Nothing about him even qualified as “strangely beautiful”.

Except maybe his tail. The way his dark scales reflected color like an oil slick wasn't actually terrible. And after a while, he found himself actually proud of his antlers in a strange way. Like how he was proud of the antlers that decorated the tavern. 

He looked out to his left at the golden leaves adorning the trees. Soon, they'd decorate the forest floor instead. After that, it would start getting difficult to tell the difference between his winter and the real world. Maybe he could be freed from the curse before they happens.

He spoke any and all thoughts aloud to himself as he walked for an hour. As he was approaching the clawed tree (the circle seemed to be about six miles around), something from the mirror caught his attention.

«««»»»

 

Lefou looked up from washing the bar and smiled at Maurice as the older man entered his tavern. He really liked Maurice. He was kind, and he didn't hate LeFou for all the terrible things they happened like LeFou thought he would. “good morning, monsieur!”

Maurice smiled in return, warm and spiteless. “hard at work as always, Eh deer boy?”

“is it work if you love it?” he didn't refer to the cleaning as much as the building itself. Something told him Maurice would understand.

“You're right, it can't very well be called work. I am actually visiting with the intention of discussing something related to this with you”

“oh? Work or not work?”

“that would depend on how you feel” he sighed as he sat opposite LeFou “in a few months, it will be winter…”

LeFou understood immediately “a lot of hunting needs to be done”

Maurice nodded, his eyes searching LeFou for any sign of discomfort with the conversation “many people at the castle would like to help, but really, I don't think Lumiere would be as good at organizing hunts as he is at organizing a royal event” they shared a chuckle.

“so what we need is someone with experience running hunts”

The older man looked into LeFou’s eyes “only do it if you genuinely want to. I want to make it clear that you are under no obligation”

Lefou looked at the spot on the wall that used to mural of Gaston, with him smiling in the corner. Now it was just a blank space, ready for Maurice's talents once again. He had told the other man that he could paint whatever he wanted, because LeFou loved all of his work. “I understand. And I do want to do this. I don't want to let his memory ruin a pastime for me”

Both men knew that last part was for LeFou’s sake. Sometimes he had to remind himself, lest he allow Gaston to define him, as it seemed he did in their youth.

«««»»»

“.... mirror, show me my reflection” Gaston waited to see the image of LeFou and that plain wall faded from the object before he put it away. 

He put his back against the scratched tree and sank to the ground. His mind swarmed with thoughts he couldn't bear to speak aloud. The realization that LeFou would be in the forest by the end of the week to plan would be exciting if it weren't for the knowledge that the love of his life resented him. 

He had never seen himself as a problem in LeFou’s life. He reluctantly thought back to the night he died. The way he had focused so hard on marrying to hide his love that he forgot to be kind to the person who mattered. 

Of course he was a problem in LeFou’s life.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stanley and LeFou head into the woods to check on the hunting trail

He hesitated on the edge of the forest and he hated himself for it. He was a veteran of the revolutionary war. He had been shot, threatened, beaten, and burned in his life. It was just a forest. Silly things like that didn't scare him, so why was his hand shaking by his side? Why did staring at the fog between the trees fill him with dread?

Because part of him expected Gaston to stroll out of that fog, broken from his fall, looking for him to-

“he's dead”, LeFou reminded himself in a whisper. Stanley didn't react except to take hold of his quivering hand. “ he's dead. I'll never see him again. Villeneuve needs food.” feeling more grounded, LeFou walked forward with Stanley.

Stan wore britches that day. When LeFou asked to be sure, he assured him that it was exactly how he wished to look. Amazingly, thanks to Adam, it was never the town that stopped Stanley from wearing a dress or kissing LeFou in public. He had told LeFou that morning, with an adorable crooked smile, that it was lucky he felt masculine on a day with hiking on the itinerary. 

In the moments LeFou was able to force thoughts of Gaston from his mind, he marveled at how nice it felt to stroll through nature with Stanley. He couldn't think of a way to describe how essential Stanley was to him, so he settled for bringing his knuckles to his lips to kiss them. He could see Stanley smiling at him in his peripheral vision. He was sure, in hindsight, that he would have never been able to get back to work at the tavern after That Night without Stan’s help. He’d still be crying in his room, wandering out into the forest alone at night without telling anyone to find the body. Instead, he had someone to look forward to every day, a reason to leave his room and all of those memories behind.

He could remember how long Tom and Dick had to talk to him through the door to convince him to go to the ball. The day it came, as he looked at himself in that fancy suit, he was sure he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t imagine going to the last place he saw him. Walking through the foyer where a harpsichord (Stan’s father, as it turned out) crushed the air from his lungs. Seeing everyone he knew except for the man he had never been separated from. But he had promised Tom and Dick. It wasn’t their fault, they just wanted to spend a night dancing with friends again. They hadn’t seen much of Stanley after That Night, since he was often with his newly remembered parents. And they hadn’t seen or heard Lefou, as most of their nights had been spent trying to get him to say something through his bedroom door.

Lefou knew he had to try harder to be a better friend when he heard Tom wonder with no small amount of fear in his voice “Is he still… alive in there?”. The very idea that he had scared his friend so still troubled him. He felt selfish for locking himself away for so long but at the time he truly felt incapable of action. He tried to speak to them when they asked him to but he couldn’t get his mouth to open, or his vocal chords to vibrate.

“You’re thinking about it” Stan accused gently. “You have this look on your face… care to talk about it?”

LeFou swallowed watched a bird hop amongst tangled branches. “I tried not to” he excused, like a child trying to avoid his father’s anger “I tried but I just thought about the ball and how I was before it… I wasn’t even thinking about him. I just felt guilty for worrying Tom and Dick”

“I’m not mad at you for thinking about anything” he leaned forward to kiss LeFou’s forehead “I understand why you feel this. The lads don’t think you did wrong by them, though and neither do I. You’re a perfectly fine friend, and your absence after a great loss in your life doesn’t change that”

“They lost a friend too. I just… I wish I had at least spoken to them. They thought I might have…” his throat tightened around the words. His eyes began to sting and he squeezed them shut.

Stanley cooed gently and held Lefou to his chest “Do we need to go back? You don’t have to do this. I could, or Tom or Dick”

“I want to do this.” he said with conviction, before kissing Stanley’s chin “Thank you, sweet boy. Thank you.”

“It’s the least you deserve, angel”

Lefou blushed and grinned at the nickname “what blasphemy!”

Stan grinned and chuckled, clearly glad to have successfully raised his love’s spirits. “I disagree. God would be lucky to have an angel like you”

“I confess I am not pure enough for the wings. I have such wicked thoughts” LeFou winked.

He raised an eyebrow “How wicked?”

LeFou let his eyes trail pointedly over his love’s body as he smirked devilishly. He had been growing bolder with his flirting in the past week. Before, he worried that he would scare Stanley away, but now it seemed Stan’s wouldn’t be so easily changed. In some ways, he felt once again like the young boy in America, seducing men into his tent. But this was entirely different from those nightly couplings. It was truly a relationship, one that focused on love and healing more than sex and it was new and strange. He was delightled by the hours spent in Stanley’s arms, but there was always desire. Still, he made sure to remain playful with his advances, as far too much of his life (and subsequently the relationship) had obtained a more serious tone than he would have liked. “Absolutely sinful thoughts”

Stanley blushed, but to his credit, he didn’t waver. He mirrored LeFou’s full body gaze (and it had been so long for the older man that he could almost feel his gaze brush up his thigh like a caress) and answered in a low purr “Let he who is without sin cast the first stone, no?”

“If we already have such sinful thoughts, what harm could sinful action do to our souls?”

“Absolutely none. And it helps that we are safe from prying eyes” Stanley looked around them, unable to see the edge of the woods.

“Not to mention protected by the law of our prince.” he sighed dramatically “too bad we have a job to do”

“Could the forest really have changed so much that we need to find a new way each year?”

LeFou shook his head “we take the same trail. But we need to at least be sure we can take horses along that path leading to the first hunting ground. Nothing ruins the long hunt like having to stop and move a tree before we even catch anything”

“Will this take all day?” he asked curiously, his fingertips trailing over the nape of LeFou’s neck.

LeFou shuddered and found himself grinning uncontrollably at the touch “No, love, it won’t. However, nobody will worry if we aren’t back before sundown.”

“So we can take our time?” he paused before adding, “with the work” in a way that made it clear that he was in fact, not talking about the work.

LeFou could have cheered. His hand and imagination could only accomplish so much. He had spent much longer than he was used to with an empty bed, and more despairingly, an empty ass. He would have even been satisfied to have his mouth filled at that point. “Well I hoped we could use that time for something more fun than work”

“I wonder, what could possibly be more fun than walking to see if we continue unobstructed?”

“Snakes and Ladders?”

Stanley laughed “Great, you brought board games? We could find a stump to play on”

“I wouldn’t mind being on my knees.” he paused, like Stanley had earlier “as I imagine the stump would be rather low.”

Stanley’s eyebrows lifted and his cheeks reddened. That was the most specific flirtation yet, and he couldn’t help but imagine it. It was so stuck in his mind, in fact, that he forgot to continue the conversation in the same indirect words, “You’d…” as he tried to find suitable words, he looked around them. All of his thoughts were stopped but the sight of frost through the trees. His blood ran cold with dread. “I think we should go…”

LeFou started to chuckle, but he noticed the troubled expression his partner had. He followed his gazed and felt as though he had to swallow his heart. Snow. before the autumn leaves had the chance to fall. He took a step forward, intent on knowing if it was a sign of horribly early winter or a curse… he wasn’t sure which he was hoping for. As he neared, he could see that the snow was in no way natural. It was a thick blanket that came to an abrupt stop just like the snow that used to surround the castle.


End file.
